


Black Chassis

by ElReyCiervo



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Experiments, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Big Bang Challenge, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Identity, Kidnapping, M/M, New ERA Birthday Reverse Big Bang, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), RK1700 - Freeform, Reverse Big Bang Challenge, Valentine's Day, Zlatko's Android Experiments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25172710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElReyCiervo/pseuds/ElReyCiervo
Summary: It was Valentine’s Day, and Nines was meeting up with Connor for a date. It was their first Valentine’s Day together, having been dating since August 2039. Nines had a small amount of first-hand information about the holiday as he had seen how his coworkers spent the day last Valentine’s Day. Humans were…odd to say the least, but he could see the appeal in a day where someone and whomever they loved wanted to do something special. So here he was, walking at a speed 7.9% faster than his normal walking pace due to the excitement that was trickling through his code.He arrived at his destination and waited.Connor never showed....Fic for the New Era Birthday Reverse Big Bang Event! Inspired by art by @SkadizzleRoss
Relationships: Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900
Comments: 18
Kudos: 76
Collections: New ERA Discord: Reverse Big Bang





	Black Chassis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SkadizzleRoss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkadizzleRoss/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I do not own Detroit: Become Human
> 
> Warnings: canon-typical language, kidnapping, references to android experimentation/body horror (think of Zlatko’s androids)
> 
> Words: 6234
> 
> Notes: I wrote this for the Detroit New Era Reverse Big Bang Event! The theme was “Identity” and I wrote this fic based of the awesome r0llo_tomasi/ SkaddizzleRoss's beautiful pictures. [Check out the art here!](https://twitter.com/SkadizzleRoss/status/1281366804393336832?s=20)

The chill of February did not deter Nines from enjoying his day off as it might to a human. In fact, it just prompted him to walk faster to his location.

It was Valentine’s Day, and he was meeting up with Connor for a date. It was their first Valentine’s Day together, having been dating since August 2039. Nines had a small amount of first-hand information about the holiday as he had seen how his coworkers spent the day last Valentine’s Day. Humans were…odd to say the least, but he could see the appeal in a day where someone and whomever they loved wanted to do something special. So here he was, walking at a speed 7.9% faster than his normal walking pace due to the excitement that was trickling through his code.

Detroit in February was cold, but Nines enjoyed the chilled breeze as it blew against his face as he walked. It was refreshing. Being around the dirt and grit and general malaise of the crimes of the city had given him a better appreciation for the simplicity of what nature had to give. The snow on the ground was still pure white in places, clinging to the trees dotting along the sidewalk. Closer to the road, the snow had turned into brown slush, but that was easy to ignore. Although the roads were busy, the air seemed to be charged with a sort of hustle and energy. From the past several holidays he had been able to experience, Nines knew this was from people wanting to get place to place in order to celebrate with others.

 _I am guilty of the same_ , he thought with slight internal amusement.

Nines had a hard time expressing certain emotions on his face. His social integration programs had not been thought of as a priority when he was made, and this had led him to a few problems. “Resting bitch face”, as Gavin often commented, was one of them. His inability to fluctuate his tone to fit certain situations was another. Strangers—and still a few people in the DPD he did not work with frequently—thought he was never happy and always “had a stick up his ass” (Tina’s quote from a new officer, not his). His inability to express certain outward emotions—via his expressions or his voice—did not equate to feeling stoic or unmoved. It was easier for him to show his gratitude or joy through gestures or actions. Placing a jacket on Connor’s shoulders, grabbing Gavin some coffee, or helping Tina grab items that were out of her reach were ways that he showed he cared. Studying something that interested him was his way of showing his excitement.

He had been excited enough last night to spend about 3.5 hours researching into Valentine’s Day and what he and Connor could do for their date today. He noticed an uptick in the beating and hum of his thirium pump regulator by 2% when he thought about spending the day whole day with Connor.

To borrow one of Hank’s colorful linguistic turns of phrase, he was over the moon.

Within a short five more minutes of walking, he arrived at the park. Both human and android couples were walking hand in hand up and down the paved pathways that winded through the snow and peeks of grass. A common denominator among them was that they seemed to simply enjoy being together no matter what they were doing. Some were walking while others were sitting. Other couples taking pictures while several more were enjoying warm treats between them.

Warm treats. That sounded like a good idea.

He checked his chronometer on his HUD. It read 11:45 AM, signaling that he was fifteen minutes early to the designated time of noon that they were supposed to meet. That was quite alright, however. He would much rather be early than late. Nevertheless, he decided to check on Connor.

[Outgoing message to: **_RK800 313-248-317-51_Connor_** ]

_[Hello, Connor. I have arrived early and wanted to inquire about your ETA.]_

[…]

[ ** _RK800 313-248-317-51_Connor_** has accepted message]

Connor replied back, _[Nines! Hello, yes, I am not too far from the park. I have had to make my way around a dense crowd, so I am afraid I will be there at an estimated three minutes late. I am sorry to make you wait for so long.]_

 _[It is no trouble at all,]_ Nines reassured as his lips twitched, the most he could do for a “normal” smile right now. _[I would much rather here you arrive late and safe, than have you somehow injured from rushing.]_

There was a pause in their messages. Without a direct interface, Nines could not experience what Connor was feeling, but he was 98% sure that the answer was mild indignation. _[I am an advanced prototype. I would not be hurt by simple power walking to the park.]_

He wished his snort could be conveyed over message. _[Connor, you were walking so fast last week in the dog park that a slow dog made you fall over.]_

Immediately: _[That was not my fault! It got in my way as it dashed for my legs.]_

 _Oh Connor, never change_.

 _[Anyway,]_ he continued, highly amused, _[do continue your trek. I will be waiting for you with a surprise, so please do arrive safely and do not get distracted by any cute animals.]_

_[I will, and I am eager to see what kind of surprise you have! See you soon.]_

With that, he surveyed the park and located the vendor he knew sold android-friendly products. He walked up to the food truck and waited in line behind the two people in front of him. A quick glance of the digital menu confirmed that they had both sweets and drinks still in stock. Cookies, cakes, donuts, cold ice-creams, and varying hot and cold drinks. There was certainly an eclectic selection of things to choose from, but he had to admit he often would only choose the same thing each time he came here. He had only had the thirium cakes from here before, but he was willing to give their warm sweetened drinks a try since he wanted to treat Connor. If someone did not know him, from his looks alone, they would never guess that Nines had a massive sweet tooth.

Did he deny having one? Not at all.

Would he voluntary give up said information? Not likely.

The two people in front of him received their orders and left. Nines stepped forward and the vendor greeted him with a cheery, “Good afternoon!” They were not the usual android who worked the truck—the usual vendor was a male android that had an older appearance reflecting that of a man in his mid-forties by approximation. From what Nines knew, the older vendor was a kind man who enjoyed making food for androids and talking with the locals who frequented the park. _Did something happen to him?_ This vendor before him was a younger android, masculine in the angles of their face, appearance that of a person in their very early twenties. They had long black hair pulled away from the brown skin of their face under a bright read beanie and matching loose scarf. They smiled at him wide, and it was this smile that made Nines notice their lips were colored a dark plum purple.

Such an interesting lip shade. He made a mental note to get a similar color for himself in the future.

Just as he was about to speak to the vendor, a rather belated incoming message from Connor made him cough to cover an outward laugh. _[And do **not** go thinking you are better than me, Nines! I have notforgotten about the Siamese cats.]_

“Greetings,” he said in return, nodding his head to convey amicableness as he knew his tone was rather flat. “If I may inquire, what happened to the usual man that works this truck? I have not seen you before.”

They blinked at him before perking up. “Oh!” they clapped their hands together. “Mr. Alastor is on a week-long holiday with his significant other—about time that man decided to take some personal time ‘cuz _I swear he is married to this truck_. I’m subbing for him for the meantime. Now,” they pointed to the menu, “what can I get for you today? It’s a chilly one!”

“Indeed.” He did a quick scan of the list and settled on the item that seemed most appealing. “Two warm vanilla thiriums, please.”

“Certainly, sir!”

It did not take long for the vendor to get his order. Before he knew it, two warm drinks were placed in front of him, hear curling in the chilled air. “That will be $9.50, sir.” They pointed to the pay module.

He nodded and placed his hand over the module. Android payment was quite easy as all that had to be done was a quick interface with the pay module. With such a standard method, he paid little to no mind as his pale synthskin peeled away from his hand to pay for his drinks. It took about two seconds for the payment to process and complete. He looked up, just about to thank the vendor for their services, until he noticed the vendor staring at him. The vendor had their eyes trained on his hand, the black of his chassis still exposed as he had his hand hovered over the module. The RK900 was the only android with a black chassis.

Nines felt a surge of discomfort roll over him.

He swiftly removed his hand, reactivated his synthskin, and grabbed the drinks in front of him. His action jarred the vendor from their staring, and they flushed in embarrassment. Nines was usually courteous to public workers, but he could not muster the effort to extend any extra politeness. The vendor tried to offer an apology, but for all of Nines’s normal patience, he was not in the mood to acknowledge it. All he did was offer a nod and turned on his heel to walk towards a free bench by the garden. 

He sat heavy on the bench. A sigh escaped him. He looked down at his hands and retracted the sythskin from his left hand once more. It was a sleek black, the chassis of his build a unique blend of high-grade carbon and shock-absorbent material mixed into the normal plastimetal of android parts. Being perhaps the most advanced android in existence, he was aware that his build was not like other androids out there. Even Connor, his predecessor, was just behind him in terms of advancements. Nines was military-grade, originally meant to fight, defend, and even destroy if need be. His body was meant for conflict and was thus built for that purpose. He knew his appearance often put people off as he had trouble emoting—he disliked this about himself. What he hated more was how his build scared people—other androids knew he was not like them, was meant to hurt. Even some of the newer android officers in the DPD were wary of him when they saw his chassis. He was strange and unusual.

A sharp breeze blew some of the loose snow off the bush next to the bench he on which he was sitting onto the sleek leather of his black boot. He sighed once again, letting the his synthskin return to normal.

At least the warmth of the vanilla thiriums were pleasant against his hands.

Logically, he knew he should not feel this way. The way he was constructed was not something he could have controlled. Connor had reminded him of such quite frequently. A small curl of comfort flitted through his code when he thought about Connor. The RK800 was no stranger to feeling different from other androids himself, so he had often lent an ear to listen to Nines and some advice.

Whenever Nines was feeling out of sorts with himself, Connor had always held his hands, grip strong but comforting. He had smiled and had told him to retract his synthskin, allowing his white chassis to press against Nines’s black. The contrast had always been something that struck Nines as beautiful, but he supposed he had a bias as it was Connor. Moments like these, Connor had instigated an interface, allowing a lazy, slow exchange of thoughts and feelings between them. Intimacy and comfort had always been some of the most prevalent and powerful emotions at the very top of the interface. “They may have built you to fit their needs,” Connor had told him, “but it is what you do with your body and yourself that counts.” If Connor had kissed Nines’s hands afterwards and Nines had blushed a brilliant powder blue because of it, he would not say.

(Yes, it had happened.)

“It is what I do with myself that counts,” he murmured audibly under his breath. Even though by a small margin, he felt more at ease. He could count on Connor to know how to ease his mind.

And speaking of Connor…

He checked his chronometer. 12:10 PM. _It is unlike Connor to be later than he stated, especially without providing an update. What is taking him? Perhaps he ran into some foot traffic. He should be here momentarily._

Nines drummed his fingers against the bench.

He looked over a few reports he had saved to his databanks.

He waved at a couple whose dog came up to sniff him.

He petted the dog.

…He had to set the drinks to the side of him on the bench because he was close to squeezing them too hard.

Another check of his chronometer and it made his stress levels rise to see that it was 12:24 PM with no update from Connor. He should check on Connor. Perhaps…perhaps he did get distracted by a cute animal? Yes, that had to be it.

[Outgoing message to: **_RK800 313-248-317-51_Connor_** ]

_[Connor, I do not wish to rush you, but it Is later than you have stated. Have you run into any other obstacles?]_

[…]

[…]

[Message has timed out. Try again?]

[Yes | No]

[ **Yes** | No]

_[Please respond. Connor, are you alright?]_

[…]

[…]

[Message has timed out. Try again?]

If he were human, he would describe the feeling that was plaguing him as feeling as if his stomach dropped right out of his abdomen. As an android, he felt his thirium pump skip a beat. Although his internal temperatures did not read to have changed, the thirium in his lines felt like they had frozen. He felt cold. It did not have to do anything with the weather.

12:30 PM.

He sent out another message, more desperate this time. _[…Connor?]_

[…]

[…]

[Message has—]

Nines ran towards the edge of the park. He called for a cab to get to the DPD.

It was February 15th, and Connor was officially missing for a whole day. Nines was beside himself with worry and anxiety. He accidentally shattered his favorite mug.

It was February 23rd, and Connor was officially missing for nine days. Nines’s stress levels never went below 70%. They had no leads whatsoever.

It was March 4th, and Connor was officially missing for nineteen days. Nines had not been entering stasis like he should have been and had collapsed once. He did not care. Captain Fowler, however, had forced him to take a mandatory three-day health leave. As an android, Nines felt like it had been completely unnecessary. The Captain had wanted him to take a whole week, but after much debate, Nines had managed to get him to lower it to just three days.

Nines was fine. He was just fine. He just needed to keep working, to stay busy. He was fine.

It was March 9th, and Connor was officially missing for 24 days. Nines was not fine. Relentless investigation and a few leads provided him with the location of Connor. He had been kidnapped. Zlatko Andronikov, contrary to the reports they had on him, had turned out _not_ to be deceased and in fact was still in the business of capturing androids and reselling them. (And worse). Kara, the AX400 whom could be often seen around Jericho, had given them a first-hand account of the horrors Zlatko could do. That _did not_ help Nines’s stress levels at all, because all he could think about when he went home that evening was all the awful tortures that could be happening to Connor.

It was maddening that they could not go to him just yet. He knew why, he knew they had to wait and prepare, but by rA9 _he was ready to tear Zlatko apart with his own two hands_.

It was March 14th, and they were going to arrest Zlatko today. Connor had been missing for 29 days. Today was the first time Nines would see him after an achingly long _29 days_.

Nines was waiting against one of the squad cars surrounding Zlatko’s house. His arms were crossed, grip tight on the fabric of his long sleeves. It was late at night, close to 10 PM, and the lights of their vehicles bathed everything around them in red and blue washes. At times, they combined to a brief purple, an uneasy color in the dark of the night. Although he was allowed on scene, Captain Fowler had ordered him not to be directly involved in Zlatko’s arrest. Captain Fowler knew him well. Perhaps too well. The RK900 wanted nothing more than to barge into that house, rip it apart, drag Zlatko out by his greasy shirt, tear him pieces, and take Connor home.

But he had to wait.

So, he waited.

It the most difficult thing that he had to do in his short life of a year and some months.

After what felt like ages had passed, he saw Tina and Gavin leading out Zlatko from the house in cuffs. The man looked haggard and roughed up. His shirt was torn in two places and his hair was out of place. Without realizing it, Nines had pushed himself off the squad car and uncrossed his arms.

Suddenly he felt a grip on his arm, and he looked over to see Officer Wilson holding. The man shook his head as he gently tugged him back a little, gaze understanding. “Not yet,” he said.

Nines looked from Officer Wilson to the squad car. From his observation, he had at some point taken several steps towards the nearing Zlatko without realizing it. When had he moved? 

His movement caused Zlatko to turn his attention from struggling to look at him. “ _Ah,”_ he let out a sound as if he had confirmed something. Nines did not like it. What he liked worse was the smile that had appeared on the bastard’s face. “So, you must be the one he was calling out for. The one that looks like him.” At this, Gavin triedto shove Zlatko faster towards one of the cars, but the guy just kept talking. “How I would have loved to get my hands on you, CyberLife’s best and most destructive. I would have made you even more perfect! But oh well, I can’t say I didn’t have _fun_ with the RK800. Too bad our time was cut short. He was going to be my personal guard.” The smirk got sicker, “And toy.”

Nines’s lunge was cut short by two strong hands gripping him by the upper arms. He knew it was still Officer Wilson and was grateful to him. Nines might have been strong enough to overpower a human, but he did not want to harm his coworker. If not for him, Nines had no certainty that he would not have committed homicide right then and there.

“Shut up,” Officer Wilson glared at Ztlako. His hands were still on Nines, looser now in support rather than restraint.

Tina and Gavin rushed by him with Zlatko. Like Nines, they wanted him in the back of a car as soon as possible. He was alarmed to see Tina had blood leaking from her nose while Gavin had a long, but deep scratch over his brow. They must of have seen him looking because Tina said, “This guy apparently likes to fight with mechanic’s tools.” With Gavin, she shoved him into the back of one of the squad cars. “We’re fine, though, don’t worry.” The door slamming shut might have been the most satisfying noise he had heard all night thus far.

After they got him in the car, Gavin turned towards Nines. The Detective looked as tired as the android felt. He clapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the house. “There are still other androids in there we gotta help—asshole’s a sick freak—but we saw Connor in there. Anderson is with him right now. He’s waiting for you.” And they both knew the ‘he’ in mention was not the Lieutenant.

“Thank you, Gavin,” was his sincere breath of relief. Just as he was about to start walking towards the house, he heard the Detective call him. He turned.

His answer made his stress levels rise. “Just a warning, tinman.” His human friend looked uncomfortable as he avoided Nines’s optics. The green shade on his face might have been a trick of the scant available light, but it did not make Nines feel any better. “It’s not…it’s not pretty in there.”

He swallowed the fluid that had collected in his mouth and nodded his thanks. He did not quite run towards the house—he had more sense than that, after all, this was still an active scene—but he most certainly powerwalked. He stepped through the door. The foyer appeared normal. It was not until he wandered deeper into the house, towards the living room, that he saw another officer. He did not know this one personally, but he was aware that this person was one of the friendlier ones. Her blonde hair was tied in a severe bun, but that did not do anything to detract from her genial appearance. What did, however, was the tense set of her brows and the way she bit her lips as he neared. A quick scan confirmed her discomfort was not geared towards him.

He knew what it was about.

The officer greeted him, brisk but professional, as he pointed to her right. It was then that Nines realized that the hallway next to her was actually a passage down a level. “Lieutenant Anderson and a few other officers are down there assisting the androids we’ve found. Emergency technicians are on the way, thank God. Detective Connor has been found and is with Lieutenant Anderson.”

Although he already knew the last part, he told her “thank you” and went down into the passage. The further he went, the more he grew…disturbed. Most of the min lights had been broken—he assumed from a scuffle—so there was a weird mix of standard white from the remaining normal lights and red from a few emergency lights that had been kicked on. The result turned everything pink and magenta in some places.

There were barred caged doors on both sides of him, each of the doors open and allowing a better sight to what was in them. Each cell had an officer talking in soft tones to the androids inside. The androids—the _people_ —appeared to be in terrible condition, and Nines could not suppress the full-body twitch that went through him. There was low moaning from some of them, incoherent chatter from a few others, and all of them were not the same android they were when they were brought to Zlatko’s house. Nines saw one completely without a face, but cranial processor and LED still active as they shone in the dark of their cell. The bright blue of the cranial processor and the stark, sick red of their LED bounced off the dingy, dirty gray of their chassis as their arms were sluggishly reaching for the officer in front of them. The officer was had an uneasy look on her face, sad as she held out her hands for the android to find and grasp. The next cell to Nines’s left held a feminine android, standing in a corner with no clothing. She must have been there for a long time as there was such a heavy layer of dirt and grime on her chassis that her whole body appeared a soot gray. The back of her head was completely detached from the front, and there was only a skinny rod attaching the front in the back. Unlike the rest of her body, the back of her head still had her synthskin functional, allowing for long hair (that had appeared to originally be white) to stream to her hips. Somehow her voicebox was still working, her high-pitched chirping directed aimlessly in the cell. The officer with her was giving her a blanket. The android walked closer on split, digitigrade legs, walking shakily towards the officer until she reached the blanket. She held it reverently as if she had never felt such a texture before. The last cell at the end of the passage before he got to the more open area held a more masculine android, this one hunched over with no arms. He had an Asian appearance and his eyes were glowing gold irises in the dark black of his sclera. The glow cast eerie shadows on his face. Officer Miller, who was in the cell with him, was trying to comfort him as the android’s arms were shaking.

[Stress Level: 78% ^^]

_If this is what he did to common model androids, then…what did he do to Connor?_

He was…scared.

He heard Hank’s voice floating from the open area now that Nines was at the end of the passage. He stepped through and saw that it was a circular room with a large, clawed machine in the center. Smaller machines and other computers lined the walls and tables of varying sizes. There were tarps covering crates and more organically shaped mounds. Nines did not want to know what those organically shaped mounds were.

Hank looked up and waved him over. “Nines.” The bulk of his body hid whatever he had been facing. _Who_ he had been facing. He knew who.

Nines walked towards him, pace slow and steady. If he were to be honest, he was not sure if his slowness was meant to negate startling Connor or to reassure himself. Perhaps both. He approached light on his feet, and finally, _finally_ was able to see Connor after nearly a whole month.

His breath caught in his lung biocomponents, his voicebox choked as he saw Connor in full.

He was hunched over himself on a crate, clutching the shock blanket that had been given to him over his shoulders. Similar to one of the androids Nines had seen on the way in, part of Connor’s cranium had been removed, showing his cranial processor inside, his very core. The processor shone a bright blue as the wires that were attached—critical, vital, sensitive wires—were painfully exposed. (Nines would have dearly loved to see the beautiful craftsmanship that made his Connor in any other situation than this…not this.) The part of his cranium that was still attached was covered in limp, oil-stained hair. With part of his cranium missing, the hair that remained would have given him the appearance of an undercut. Here, though, it just did not look right. His synthskin was activated from his hair line down to his top lip. The rest of his body was exposed chassis and synthetic muscle fibers. The thin buildlines of his face had somehow been forced to cut through the synthskin, carving lines from the top of his hairline, to his brow, down his cheeks, and to the corners of his lips. What shocked Nines the most was Connor’s chassis was no longer the white plastimetal he had grown familiar to seeing and touching. It was not that it was gray or brown from a layer of dirt or grime. No, the very frame of his body appeared to have been altered drastically. Connor’s chassis was now something that Nines would have been more familiar seeing in himself. It was black, a stronger and more durable material than the standard white plastimetal. The visible synthetic muscles of Connor’s frame had been turned thick in some places, all of them a dark blue speaking of reinforced fibers.

[Stress Level: 84% ^^]

Nines heard a thud. Was that him? When had he dropped to his knees?

The noise drew Connor’s attention. When he looked up at Nines, the RK900 was startled to see the optics he knew so dearly to be so visibly changed before him. The warm, delightful brown had been turned to rings of hot gold, burning in the black of his sclera. _RA9, how could that bastard do this to him?_ His thirium pump felt like it was going to break in his chest. Or melt from the heat of how hard it was humming and beating. A mental thanks was sent to Captain Fowler because there was no way that Nines could have remained as a professional officer in this situation. He had an uncomfortable, acute awareness of how much his internal biocomponents felt as if they were going to shatter. His HUD said informed him otherwise. For it to hurt this much, his HUD had to be lying. 

“ _Connor_ ,” his voice was a cry, static making it almost incomprehensible. His face was wet—he had begun to cry, unabashed. 

Connor’s expression flitted through several emotions that Nines did not have the energy to analyze and pinpoint right at this moment. The last one his face, however, settled into something that Nines could recognize as relief and longing. _Is that how I feel?_ Those burning rings of gold shone brighter as they caught sight of Nines, shimmering as fluid flooded his optical units. Connor did not hold back his tears. “ _Ni-i-i-nes_ ,” his voice held an echoey feedback to it, almost like he was underwater. Could that have been an effect of whatever modifications that had been done to him or from sheer emotion? “ _Y-you’re_ here…you’re really here.”

Nines did not know why he laughed, but the wet sound escaped him nonetheless. “Of course I am here, Eights. No matter how long, I would always come searching for you.”

Hank took his hand off Connor’s shoulder, realizing that Connor was going to be okay with Nines. The motion gave Nines a small jolt as he had completely forgotten for a moment that Hank was there. “I’ll leave you two alone for a bit. Technicians should be here in a few.”

Nines nodded his thanks for the moment of privacy as there were so many more things that he was desperate to say to Connor. Perhaps there were too many. Should he not speak? There were too many options on his HUD, his preconstructions were—he was ashamed to say—not all that great, and he could potentially say the wrong with which could have the potential to harm Connor in some way, shape, or form, and the last thing that Nines wanted to do was—

He felt a touch to his face. 

“Nines,” Connor’s voice, still echoed, was soft.

All the thoughts that had been in Nines’s head and all the drive he had worked up to get what he was going to say right died. His body deflated; shoulders dropped. His tears flowed outright. He leaned into the hand, kissing the fingers that had stopped him from speaking, now touching his lips. He kissed the bare black metal of the fingers, using one of his own hands to bring it and cup it to the side of his head. He leaned into it once again. “You never showed for our date and I had become so worried. I…kept fearing the absolute worse. I thought…” he had to clear the static from his voice as he was overcome with emotion—was this how glass felt like? “I thought I would never see you again.” He reached out and touched the side of Connor’s jaw. His touch was light as he felt the raised grooves of the buildines of his face.

Connor leaned towards him, head dipping into Nines’s space. “I _wa-a-a-s_ so scared,” his voice crackled. He sucked in a sharp breath. “I thought the same…Every day, every _damn day_ , I thought I would never see you. Thought I would never hear your voice again.”

Nines felt an overwhelming urge to draw Connor into his arms, and he did just do. He wrapped his arms around him, careful not to jostle and jar the loose wires from his head. _He is here. He is really, really here_. To feel Connor against him once again was a blessing, a balm to the rabid ache in his systems. Motion slow from either processor lag or emotion, Connor brought his arms to clutch at Nines’s back. The grip of his hands was tight on Nines’s white shirt, and when he felt this, Nines pulled him in closer to himself. He pressed his forehead against the top of his dear Eights, mindful of his open cranium. From this close, he could hear the hum of the other’s systems and the faint clicking—so faint that a human would miss it—of his cranial processor. He could _see_ Connor’s very system that housed his entire being: thoughts, memories, actions, desires, fears. The glowing blue was bright and pulsed in time with the clicks and hums of his processor. He was looking at the very core of Connor, his whole being. He was beautiful. Nine wished he could have witnessed the intimacy of Connor’s being in any other situation than this.

The grip on his shirt tightened once again, drawing his attention Connor who had starting trembling. Before he could ask what had made him so scared suddenly, Connor whispered, “He made me _i-i-into_ this. Made me into his _thing_.” He sounded more angry than scared, tone bitter and tired and many more things that Nines was having trouble pinpointing.

Nines pulled him away slightly so that he could look him in his optics. “What he did does not define you. You define yourself. Your identity is what you make of it.” He brushed his thumbs in small swirling motions on Connor’s arms. “You are not just what Zlatko did to you.”

“Nines,” Connor blinked some of the tears that had fell fresh from his optics.

He continued, “Please do not hate yourself. You have a black chassis, yes. However, that does not alienate you or make you into something unpleasant.” He lifted a hand from Connor’s back so Connor could see it, and when it caught his attention, Nines disengaged the synthskin from his hand. His black chassis was on full display. He let a small smile bloom on his face, “You are just like me.”

The air was fragile between them as if one fast move would shatter the moment. Connor reached out one of his hands to Nines’s. With the bareness of his chassis, his hand felt cool as it carefully pressed against Nines’s hand, fingers slotting between fingers. Bare chassis against bare chassis, Nines curled his own fingers around Connor’s and they held each other’s hand. It was a solid feeling, grounding and reassuring. Connor looked from that hand to his own, lifting his spare hand to Nines’s, palm forward. Nines understood what he wanted. He reached out to Connor, synthskin disengaging. He ghosted his fingertips on the inside of his wrist, slowly trailing his touch upward. The glossiness of Nines’s sleeker black chassis reflected the mixed purple-hued lighting of the area. Connor’s black chassis almost absorbed the lighting, making it appear pink in some areas while other times it appeared to have almost an orange or purple sheen.

He raised his touch. His fingers slid upward until were parallel to Connor’s, palm to palm and fingers to fingers. With both of their hands holding the other’s, they leaned close to each other again, and it was at this moment that they could forget anything not in front of them. Could forget anything that was not each other.

[Interface Request: **_RK800 313-248-317-51_Connor_** ]

[Accept | Deny]

[ **Accept** | Deny]

His breath shuddered in his chest as a surging wave of emotions crashed into Nines. _–Pain, hurt, relief, tiredness—_ It all came through the interface. _–Relief, thankfulness, worry, worry, worry, comfort—_ What part was him and what part was Connor? The barrier between him and Connor dissipated like ink in water, and soon the question of where he started and where Connor ended became unanswerable. He felt Connor’s pain and Connor felt his worry; one felt the other’s anxiety, the other feeling lingering fear. _–Love, comfort, relief, joy, worry, love, love love—_ They felt it all.

_[I love you.]_

_[I love you, too.]_

_[I never want to be without you again.]_

_[I love you._ _]_

Neither of them was sure who said what, but the sentiments were equal on both sides. They continued the interface, not wanting to let the other go. They held each other even tighter and breathed, simply breathed. It was time to go home.

_[With you.]_

_[With you.]_

* * *

Published: 7/9/2020 

A/N: I had so much fun writing this and working with @SkadizzleRoss on this project! I have never participated in a fan event before, so this was so fun to do! If you like Skadizzle's stuff, you can check her out on her [**Twitter @SkadizzleRoss**](https://twitter.com/SkadizzleRoss). If you like my stuff, check me out on my Twitter as well [**@el_rey_ciervo**](https://twitter.com/el_rey_ciervo)!

Also, drop a comment on here to tell me what you thought of this fic! <3

A/N 2: If you need separate image links: image one can be found ([ **here**](https://i.imgur.com/8IQuaCw.png)) and image two can be found ( **[here](https://i.imgur.com/LhOIE6l.png)** )


End file.
